is USA river selling salvation between Western Auto and Mike's bar. There's no Jordan on Main Street, only a river of pick-up trucks and beaten Chevrolets. At night, it's a river of fire rolling on and on past x-rated movies, pawnshops drug stores and hot dog stands. All night I sit, drinking vodka in Mike's bar, waiting for Dostoevsky to rise with the heavy smoke, to come alive in the voices of the room. The woman next to me says, It's war out there. At dawn I return to sleep all day, to dream Jordan. Over my roof, the whole sky is burning.
© 2007 adk/ andrédekorvinAndrés Verse